At the risk of speaking too soon, our days of pumping out the basement may be over. I say our, but it is a royal "our". John was the one with wet feet. 

 

When he traveled last spring and there was a storm in the forecast he went over the somewhat persnickety system in the inevitability that I would need to step up. The cap for the drainage hole on the wet vac was lost long ago, so he uses a jar lid. You snap it in place when the suction starts and quickly remove it when you turn the vacuum off, without letting it get carried in the stream headed for the sump pump. To coax the water toward the action John has a pair of two by fours positioned like a v, and a broom for sweeping the current. Sometimes there are bits of trash or the odd sock floating in the mix and you must rescue them before they clog up the works. Then when you have most of the flood gone you turn on fans to evaporate the puddles. 

 

But that soggy ordeal is over. 

 

A crew arrived this week to replace our worthless gutters, and install better designed ones. This will insure that rainwater travels away from the edges of the house, and far from the window wells. John was so excited the next morning, gazing up at the creamy white ribbons along the roof he dared the sky to open up. 

 

"Let it rain! Let it rain! Let it rain!"

 

There was a bit of cockiness in his invitation. There is the chance that this is not the only thing contributing to unwanted rainwater. But it feels hopeful. 

 

I remember a time we took a parenting class, back when the median age of our progeny was in the single digits, and their capacity to outsmart us was much higher. They were all in bed when the class was over, having been successfully lulled into slumber by the babysitter, but part of me wanted to bang pot lids to wake them all up and challenge them to be naughty. I could handle it, with the tools I had recently acquired. 

 

Preparing for trouble is within reach. Having a strategy for the conflicts that show up as regularly as rain works better than scrambling after you are already ankle deep in resentment. 

 

P.S. I wrote this before I knew that the hurricane was coming. I do not mean to diminish the anxiety of those people in its path. May you all be well.